


Be More like the Man You Were Made to Be

by ladyblogger



Series: Bleed to Know You're Alive [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Origins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 11:48:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyblogger/pseuds/ladyblogger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This lays the foundation for the rest of the series and describes Eames first job with the Cobb's</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be More like the Man You Were Made to Be

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of my Bleed to Know You're Alive series

Eames had been preparing for this career his whole life, he just didn’t know it. As a child his Nanny always chuckled at his wild imagination. She would chase him around the yard when he was pretending to be James Bond, and spend the afternoon looking for him when he pretended to be a robber fleeing with his prize. He doesn’t remember a single day of his childhood he spent entirely as himself. His favourite thing to do as a teenager was skip school with the help of a signed note from “his father” (he had gotten quite good at forging signatures by this point) and sit in the local coffee shop people watching. He always brought a notebook with him, busily writing his observations, his imaginary scenarios, and anything else that came to mind. His favourite notebook was part of a monogrammed set his Mother had given him for his 7th birthday, the last birthday they celebrated together before she left, with nothing but a note to remember her by. It was blue with a fancy letter E on the front cover. He liked to spend his time imagining the lives of the people who would filter in and out of the shop around him. Sometimes he would spend the whole day in someone else’s head, because they probably had a mother to coddle them, and a father who noticed them, and sometimes it was just easier to be someone else than face the fact that he was utterly alone. 

When he was 23 Mal had shown him the world, had given his talents a purpose. She was only two years older than him, but when she walked into the coffee shop he was sitting in he could tell she knew more about the world than he ever expected he would. She had a sense of danger and grace emulating from her. Her eyes were large and soft, but her posture strong and confident. She ordered a coffee, her accent giving an explanation as to why Eames had never seen her before. She was very beautiful and Eames was very single so he thought he’d have a go. “Is this seat open” he asked, gesturing to the empty seat across the table from where Mal had sat. “Depends on whose asking for it,” she replied with a faint smile on her lips.

“Eames,” he said sitting down, “I couldn’t help but notice you’re alone and thought you’d enjoy some company”. 

“That’s very sweet of you, but assuming you are here alone also, perhaps it is you who is in need of company,” she said looking him straight in the eye. 

Eames didn't know how to respond. He’s always been very good at hiding how lonely he was, but this woman had deduced it in less than a minute. She saved him the trouble of answering when she reached out for the blue notebook in his hands, “What’s this”. 

He hadn't quite recovered enough to remember to keep the book of stories a secret and handed it over without a second thought. She opened it to the last page he had been writing on. A smile came over her face as her eyes scanned across the page. To Eames it had seemed like a million years until she finally spoke. “You are writing as if you were this man over there in the corner,” she said as she looked up. It wasn’t a question it was a statement.

“Ya, how’d you know?” he asked, his manners forgotten; “Who is this woman?” he thought to himself, he had never met anyone like her in his entire life and doubted he ever would again. 

“It’s fairly obvious, you’ve become him over the course of a single page,” she explained. He was dumbfounded and sat there staring at her. This had been the weirdest pick up attempt. “Are you going to be here tomorrow at the same time” she asked when it was clear he wasn’t going to talk first. 

“Ya I suppose, why?” 

“There is someone you should meet. Tomorrow, 2:00,” she said as she rose. Just before she left she said, “and for reference, I’m Mal Cobb,” and then Eames was left sitting alone curious and confused.

The next day, at two o’clock sharp Eames re-entered the shop. He wasn’t generally good with being on time, but something about this woman kept him in line. She was sitting at the same table on the same side she had the day before. The only difference was she sat beside a blonde haired man. He was tall with green eyes. It didn’t take a genius to figure out they were in love, hopelessly so. “Great, he’s probably here to beat me up. Bloody brilliant” he thought to himself turning to leave, then out of the corner of his eye he saw her get up “Eames, right on time”. He walked over to the table, waiting for this guy to take a swing at him. Instead he stuck out his hand and said, “Dominic Cobb, Mal says you have potential, and after looking into your records I’d have to agree”. 

If Eames had been confused yesterday, it was nothing compared to how he was feeling right now. “I’m sorry but potential for what? And what records? Who are you exactly?” Eames spewed out. Mal whispered something in Cobb’s ear and he let out a small laugh. Eames felt heat creeping up his neck, he wasn’t sure if it was out of anger or embarrassment but he was sure he didn’t like it. 

“I’m sorry Eames, Mal neglected to tell me she did not fill you in on the nature of this meeting. Allow me to start from the beginning” Cobb said, motioning for Eames to take a seat. Eames took it, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Have you ever heard of extraction?”

The hair on the back of his neck had immediately stood up. He had heard of extraction. His father was a member of the British government, and his office at home was easily infiltrated, Eames had been picking that lock since he was 12. Eames had broken in a few months ago and noticed a file on his desk containing the details of a process called extraction. From what Eames understood, his father was a part of a committee that was responsible for determining if the process would be legal to use in court proceedings as evidence. “Yes I have actually,” Eames said a little smugly hoping to bring Cobb down a level, the man was obviously older, but regardless, Eames never appreciated any level of condescension, intended or not. 

To his dismay, his answer only made Cobb smile larger and Mal say, “I told you he’s what we’re looking for”. Cobb then went on to explain the role of the thief and forager who is needed to pull off extraction. He continued that Eames history of stealing cars, forging signatures, and apparently adapting the personalities of strangers made him an ideal candidate. From that moment on, Eames never looked back. He agreed then to help the Cobb’s on their current job in exchange for their help in learning the business and a share of the payment. That night he went home, packed a bag, wrote a note to his Dad, and left. He hadn’t been home since.

Their job was to investigate the integrity of a judge in California accused of accepting bribes. This line of work was technically legal in the sense that it was not exactly illegal. Eames loved that reasoning; he got a thrill walking a line like that. Whatever they discovered was to be used as a preliminary investigation, they were supposed to figure out if there was reason to conduct a former and by the books investigation. In the end, the justice department rationalized this process would be more time and cost efficient than simply jumping into an investigation immediately. They also wanted to avoid the possibility of any type of public embarrassment. When they got to California, Cobb introduced Eames to a chemist. His name was Steve and he was American like Cobb. Steve explained that since the Somnacin compound was still so new, there was a unique opportunity for a chemistry enthusiast, like himself, to really explore and experiment in a practical application environment. Eames liked Steve immediately.  
The next thing Eames learned was that extraction was played like a team game. Every member had a responsibility and if everyone did their jobs properly, then it all would go smoothly. Cobb explained his role first. He was the architect of the dream. It was his job to create the setting. He explained the importance of creating mazes as a form of protection. 

“Protection?” Eames questioned, “We’re asleep, what do we need protection from?”

“Projections” Cobb answered. “As the Architect I build the setting of the dream, but it’s the mark that fills it with extras. They’re people out of their subconscious that walk around like extras in a movie. They also protect the mark when they notice strange things happening, when they detect that someone else is in control of the dream.” Cobb explained. 

“I guess that makes sense” Eames nodded. There were so many details that he had not expected; this line of work was far more complicated than he had initially imagined. 

“They can get pretty violent” Cobb said, elaborating, “that’s why mazes and architectural tricks are so important, the longer it takes them to find us, the longer we have to finish the job” Cobb gave him a reassuring smile. “Normally the architect doesn’t need to go under with the rest of the team, generally they are a good person to leave behind to watch over everybody while they’re under, but I’m working as a point man too, so I’ll be joining you guys”. 

“Only because you can’t trust anyone else to do the research as good as you” Mal said from across the room with a playful smile. 

“Well why would I take a risk on someone when I know that I can do it myself?” Cobb replied. 

“You’re going to run yourself ragged trying to do it all yourself” Mal said, a hint of worry in her voice. “Well if you can find me someone who does better research than me, you just let me know. But until that day comes, I will continue to be on point” Cobb said, effectively ending the conversation. He turned back to Eames, “Where were we?” 

“We were talking about the point man” Eames said, eager to learn more. Cobb went on to explain that it was the responsibility of the point man to conduct a majority of the research. They were supposed to learn the mark’s travel, transportation, and or living arrangements. They were supposed to do a thorough background check into the mark’s personal, professional, and secret life. “So you do all of that and build the dream?” Eames asked Cobb, impressed with his abilities, “Where do you find the time?” 

Cobb laughed, “I make it work, it’s tough, but the research is incredibly important, not only to the success of the job, but also for the team’s safety. And I can’t leave the safety of, uh, the team, to just anybody, it’s too risky” Cobb’s face flushed slightly as he gave a quick glance across the room at Mal who was deep in conversation with Steve over something to do with the microscope. Eames just nodded and looked back down at the model he and Cobb had been discussing. He had never felt for someone the way Cobb felt for Mal, it wasn’t like Eames hadn’t tried. He was a British bad boy with a soft center, he should be a catch, but no one had ever stuck, no one had ever felt right. Over the years he’s had his fair share of relationships, but none with a future. Some of the girls were hot, but brought nothing else to the relationship. Some girls were smart, but they had been condescending or treated Eames as a study break. Some girls were nice, but there was no chemistry. Eames wished he could find what Cobb and Mal had; he wanted to find someone who burned a passion inside his soul, someone who felt that strongly about him.

“I guess now I should give you a general idea as to what an extractor is” Cobb said, interrupting Eames’ daydream. 

“That’s Mal’s job, right?” Eames said, deciding that focusing on perfecting his new career should take priority over rehashing his failed relationships. 

“Yes. Her job is to collect the information the mark doesn’t want us to find. Generally in my designs I create some kind of safe hold location, like a safe or a bank vault. By doing, this the mark’s subconscious automatically files their deepest secrets there, for protection. It’s Mal’s job to collect that information. As an Extractor, Mal typically isn’t the dreamer. If she was, the projections would be too focused on her, leaving her less time to complete the job, and in more danger of attack” Cobb summarized. 

“So does that mean whosever’s dream we were in should stay away from Mal unless absolutely necessary?” Eames questioned, trying to learn a bit more about the strategy as well as the basic roles and responsibilities. “Generally that is preferable, yes” Cobb said, “You’re catching on pretty quick” he finished with a smile. Eames smiled back at him, he’d finally found something he was good at and he was getting paid for it, he didn’t have much to not smile about these days. 

The next day back at the warehouse, Eames spent the day with Mal, hooked up to the PASIV. Eames learned it stood for Portable Automated Somnocin IntraVenous and it was what connected the dreamers together, and what administered Steve’s compound. While asleep, Mal brought Eames to a little café in France, a favourite place of hers. However, instead of it being next to the Eiffel Tower like it was in reality, it was in the middle of the countryside. She explained while it generally wasn’t a good idea to dream exact locations so she stuck this piece of reality in a dream location which helped to distinguish it from reality. She added that she couldn’t help but to bring him here, as it reminded her of the first time they met. “You looked so lost, all I wanted to do was help you, and now, since that is what I’m doing, it seemed only fitting that we start here” she said, smiling at him from across the table. Eames was an only child, but he imagined if had had an older sister, he would have liked her to be like Mal. While in the dream, Mal demonstrated the ability for the dreamer to bend physics in impossible ways, which led to Eames seeing the projections get violent for the first time. He doesn’t remember a time when he had been more afraid then when their waiter came at him with a broken bottle. But Mal saved him; she shot the projection in the head, taking him down with one quick shot. “Close your eyes dear, I’m going to wake you up, do not be scared, I will be right behind you” She said, and Eames obeyed. He heard a shot and woke up back in the warehouse. 

“I’m so sorry, I should have prepared you for the projections better before I started interfering with the naturalness of the dream” Mal said from beside him as she sat up and unhooked herself from the machine. Eames sat in a stunned silence, that had one of the most exhilarating experiences of his life, and she was apologizing. “Please, love, don’t apologize, that was bloody brilliant!” Eames said as he followed her lead and unhooked himself from the machine. She laughed, light and carefree, obviously pleased with his contribution, “Have you ever used a gun before?” she asked him. “The groundskeeper used to take me duck hunting with him when I was a teenager” Eames said, fondly remembering the time spent out in the fields with Harrison, watching, and waiting the day away. “It’s a good start, but we need to get you better trained than that before I can in good conscious let you work this job” she said, “After lunch we’ll go back under and we’ll work on some things.” Eames raised an eyebrow, giving her a questioning look, “It’s only 9:30, why don’t we do it now” his eagerness seeping into his words. “Because right now I have to go meet Cobb to discuss the mark’s travel plans and you need to work on your totem” she said with a sly smile. “Totem? What is that?” he asked, no one had mentioned a totem before. “It’s a small object that is easily concealed that will help you distinguish dreams from reality. You need to make it unique and keep its properties a secret so that it can show you if you are in someone else’s dream” Mal explained as she grabbed her purse from the chair beside her. The materials you’ll need should be in the back feel free to use whatever you want” and then she left, leaving Eames alone in the warehouse. 

It was easy for him to decide what his totem should be. When he turned 12, his father was supposed to take him into the city on a tour of the bookshops and then out for dinner. However, his father called and informed him that he was too busy to do anything with him, but Harrison was around and had been instructed to entertain the young birthday boy. Eames, despite learning years ago that his father rarely kept his plans, was deeply disappointed in this particular turn of events. Harrison was nice enough, but Eames never imagined spending quality time with the man. That night Harrison taught Eames poker while they drank orange soda and ate frozen pizzas. It was the best birthday Eames had had since his Mom left. Every birthday after that Eames and Harrison would play poker together while eating frozen pizzas and guzzling down orange soda. That was, until Harrison died a couple of years ago. It was a few months after Eames’ 20th birthday when the old man caught a bad case of pneumonia, and died shortly after. Eames had spent every day in the hospital, sleeping in the chair beside the bed of the best father figure a boy could have hoped for. The night before Harrison passed away, Eames brought the old beat up set of poker chips they used every year on his birthday. They played a few hands before Harrison was too tired to continue. After that Eames read to him from the collection of Shakespeare sonnets Harrison used to read to him when he was sick. The next morning when Eames woke up, his head on the bed, Harrison’s hand in his, he knew his friend was gone. Harrison’s sister travelled in from Scotland to make all of the arrangements. In his will he had left Eames a little bit of money, and that beat up set of poker chips. That set currently sat on the table beside his bed, minus one chip. That particular one was in Eames pocket, keeping Harrison close. He decided to modify the chip to look grooved while actually being quite smooth. This way, Harrison would always be there to help keep him grounded in reality. 

Later that afternoon, after Eames had finished his totem, Mal returned. She interrupted him reading Wuthering Heights, for the umpteenth time, when she breezed into the warehouse, her coat billowing behind her. “How did your totem turn out” she asked him as she took her coat off and hung it on the back of a chair. 

“Fine, I’m actually quite happy with it” Eames replied, putting his book away, eager to begin weapons training. 

“May I inspect it” she asked casually as she prepared the PASIV. 

Eames smiled, “Now I know you don’t take me for a sucker Mrs. Cobb” he said smoothly, playing with the smooth chip in his pocket. 

She looked up at him beaming, “There’s a good boy” she giggled, it was light and playful and again Eames was slightly blown away by her beauty, he had been right, there will never be anyone like her. “Ready for some weapon’s training, I really think you will enjoy this part” she asked. 

“Born ready” Eames said providing his arm for the IV. Before he knew it he was in a different empty field than he’d been in that morning. Mal was already there, standing next to a giant table that was almost entirely covered in guns, all different sizes and calibers. Eames had never seen this many weapons in one place. He approached Mal and the table, unable to break his eyes away from the firepower he was going to learn to master. 

“We might as well get started right away, you seem eager so I won’t stall you” Mal said to him, teasing him slightly, but Eames didn’t care, she was right, he was eager, and he wanted to get started immediately. For hours they were on the field shooting every single gun on that table until Eames had learned the basics of each and every one. The stood in the field shooting at targets that appeared almost magically from the ground, like flowers blooming in the spring time. When their dream time was up, they woke back in the warehouse on their respective chairs. Eames could still feel his adrenaline pumping as he unhooked himself from the machine and began putting it away. Mal seemed to be much calmer than him, she was probably already well adjusted to this type of exhilaration. He thought to himself, “I wonder if I’ll ever get to that place of calm serenity while firing an AK47”, he couldn’t imagine ever being there, let alone being totally calm with anything bigger than that like Mal was handling. 

“That was good, quite impressive really” she said smiling at him, “We’ll do this again tomorrow”. She was putting on her coat now. 

“Ya, that sounds good” Eames said trying to keep his voice from sounding like a 12 year old kid on their way to Disney World. With a warm smile she left. Eames began collection his things when he heard, “I take it you’re doing better with your weapons training than I did at the beginning”. Eames nearly tripped over his lounge chair in his spastic 180 degree turn to locate the speaker. Steve laughed heartily at him, apparently he had arrived to work on the compound at some point when Eames and Mal were under. 

“Jesus Christ Steve, why the bloody hell would you scare the shit outta me like that?” Eames said exasperated, trying to compose himself. 

“Sorry, I thought you knew I was here. You’re supposed to be this super observant dude, I guess I stand corrected” Steve joked at him. 

“Ha bloody ha” Eames said before giving in and laughing as well, “Are you finished whatever it is you came here to do?” Eames asked grabbing his coat.  
“Ya I was just packing up when you guys rejoined us in reality” Steve said, grabbing his coat as well. 

“Well fancy getting a bite?” Eames asked. 

“Ya sounds good, there’s this sports bar down the road that has the best roast beef sandwiches” Steve suggested. 

“Sounds good, lead the way” Eames said, holding the door open for Steve. They walked to the restaurant which turned out to be called Al’s Sports Bar. Despite its uncreative name, the food was anything but ordinary. There were the staples of course, burgers, fries, wings, but there was also a variety of alternative takes on the staples as well. Eames had the “Beefter Burger” which was a lobster patty on top of a beef patty with a little bit of lettuce and tomato with some kind of creamy sauce that he couldn’t quite place, all on a buttery pretzel bun. He was pretty sure it was the greatest burger he’d ever had, even the chips that came with them weren’t your run of the mill deep fried potatoes, they had a seasoning on them that made them really unique. On top of the delicious meal, Eames had the pleasure of Steve’s company.  
Eames learned that Steve had grown up in Ohio and was a the youngest of six kids, and he jokingly told Eames between mouthfuls of his roast beef sandwich that “by the time I came around my parent’s basically said ‘fuck it’ and basically let me do what I wanted”. Steve also told Eames that while his parents weren’t very restrictive, they were very involved in his life, “I consider my Dad to be one of my best friends, he was going to be the best man at my wedding” Steve said wistfully before taking a swig of his beer. 

“I didn’t know you were married” Eames said, ready to congratulate his friend on achieving everything Eames had ever wanted, but Steve interrupted, “I’m not. We were engaged when I was in grad school, she was 2 years younger and I loved her, but she apparently loved some football player at Ohio State instead” Steve said, looking slightly embarrassed, as if he hadn’t meant to bring it up in the first place, as if his failed engagement was his fault. 

“That bitch” said Eames, mentally taking back what he previously thought about Steve living the life he always wanted. “I’m sorry mate, that really blows”. 

“No worries dude, it’s in the past, and I’m over it. To be honest, I don’t think I would’ve ended up in this line of work if that bimbo hadn’t run off” Steve said smiling, “Things have a funny way of working themselves out in the long run.” Eames didn’t really know how to respond to that. Steve was only a couple years older than him, but he seemed so much wiser, it made Eames feel like a child in comparison. So instead of answering he took a long drink of his beer and devoured the rest of his burger. 

The conversation drifted back to more casual topics, like their predictions for the outcome of the game that was playing on the tvs all around them, and Eames’ weapon training. Steve told him that during his first time training with Mal on the range he accidently blew up a farm house then shot himself in the foot. Eames howled with laughter at this and Steve threw a bunched up straw rapper at him. “It actually wasn’t funny, Mal was seriously concerned, and practically suggested that this career wasn’t right for me. So I Googled how to shoot a gun all night preparing for the next day. It was super embarrassing!” Steve said, eventually joining in Eames’ laughter. They ended up staying at the restaurant longer, and drinking more than they expected, so when they finally dragged themselves back outside, they each grabbed a cab home. Eames’ concluded that Steve was a really good guy and he would have no problem being friends with him, even after the job was done. Eames was finally moving on with his life, he was finally living and that felt fantastic.  
The next day he and Mal trained in two sessions again. The morning they focused on weapons again, and in the afternoon they worked only on his disguises. He was learning fast, and loving every minute of it.  
“I think I can bring you in a job now in good conscience.” Mal said when they were back in the warehouse “You’re doing exceptional”. Eames beamed; he’d never been exceptional at anything in his life. 

“That’s great to hear” Cobb interjected from his desk across the room, “Because we’re going ahead with this in a week tomorrow”. The rest of the week went by extremely quickly to Eames. There were cars to rent, and people to see, and practice sessions to be held. Finally the day of the job was upon them. 

Cobb worked with the Internal Affairs office to arrange for the judge to be called to a meeting across the state. He was under the impression that he was going to be asked to mentor or advise another judge. Cobb figured that if he was on his way to a meeting about work, then he wouldn’t find it strange to dream about something regarding his practices. Also Cobb’s research showed that the man preferred to take the train on trips opposed to driving. Everything was set. Eames had never been so nervous in his life. He was supposed to impersonate another judge who had been convicted of accepting bribes. They were going to arrange the meeting at a charity fundraiser. He was supposed to try and learn the mark’s true feelings on accepting bribes. Simultaneously Mal would be breaking into the safe Cobb put in the next room over, Cobb would be working security against projections, and Steve, who was not going under, would be on the train keeping watch over them while they slept. 

The train arrived exactly on time at 9 am and they all boarded without a hitch. The guys at Internal Affairs had arranged for the cabin to be empty, other than the team and the mark. Cobb’s research showed that the mark feel asleep within the first 10 minutes on every train ride he’d taken that departed before 10am, and as Eames had expected, Cobb’s research proved correct. The mark was sleeping soundly exactly 8 minutes after the train’s departure and very soon after Cobb was hooking him up to the PSIV. Mal hooked herself up, gave Eames a sincere smile and fell asleep. Eames fumbled a bit when hooking himself up, and Steve noticed, “Dude, you’ll be fine, I’ll see you after for a beer”. Steve’s reassurance helped Eames to calm himself down and he hooked himself up and drifted to sleep. 

He woke up outside the door of the banquet hall. So far everything was going to plan. He took some deep breaths before looking at his reflection in the lobby’s mirror, he saw himself slowly shudder into the appearance of a man he’d been studying relentlessly for the past couple of weeks. After he shifted he tried hard to stay focused on not breaking character. He gave himself five minutes of breathing slowly and deeply before walking into the reception, he wanted to make sure his transformation stuck. He walked in and began to mingle, trying to find the mark among the sea of black suits and classic dresses. Eventually he found himself standing next to the mark. He turned to him, “My goodness, is that you? I didn’t know they roped you into attending this as well! What a pleasant surprise” Eames said reaching out a hand.  
“Richard, how nice to see you again, the wife always drags me to these things” the mark shook Eames’ hand. Eames found it more difficult than he expected to shift the conversation to the topic of bribery, he resorted to maintaining the marks attention, hopefully buying Mal enough time to break into the safe. An hour later Eames was getting desperate, the mark seemed to be growing tired of Eames’ presence and Eames suspected that the longer he talked to him, the more suspicious the judge would become. Thankfully, moments later Cobb motioned to Eames from across the room and Eames excused himself, much to the mark’s relief. 

“Mal’s got it, and time’s almost up, is there anything you learned that we could add to what Mal’s got” Cobb asked in a hushed tone. 

“No, I’m afraid not. He wasn’t really in a sharing mood, I’ve basically spent the last half hour having one sided small talk” Eames said, his frustration with himself seeping into his words. 

“Not to worry Eames, you did great, we got what we came here for and that’s what matters” Cobb told him reassuringly and the next thing Eames knew he was sitting next to Steve on the train. 

The first thing they did when the get off the train was call their employer. Cobb assured them that the judge is clean, but has very damaging information about some of his fellow judges that they should investigate instead. After that, the job is officially over, and they’re free to spend their time as they chose. Cobb and Mal disappeared off into the sunset, and Eames and Steve decided to grab that beer.


End file.
